The Afton Family Demise
by PorkCutletBowlsFatales
Summary: Charlie is just trying to get by at Fredbear's Family Diner, but nothing seems to be going right. She's almost at the breaking point from putting up with her brother's unorthodox antics. Out of ideas, their father gets him a job in another part of Fazbear Entertainment where he works the night shift. But what follows leads to tragedy for the Aftons... (Rated T: Foul language/gore)
1. The Afton Family

**Authors' Note: This fan fiction is based off of the events of Five Nights at Freddy's 4, Five Nights at Freddy's: Sister Location and Five Nights at Freddy's: The Silver Eyes, however this story takes place in an alternate universe, so it will not** **fall into the FNaF timeline that we know of (or at least until Scott changes it AGAIN).**

 **Written by: Amber Michaelis and Joeneauxvieve**

 **Edited by: Joeneauxvieve**

* * *

This is the story of my supposed 'death'. Very few people know that I'm still alive. Honestly, _I_ don't know whether to call myself dead or alive. For now, I'll just use the term 'trapped'.

I know, I know, it sounds extremely vague. If I told you what I am right now, you probably wouldn't believe me. If for some reason you DO believe me, the first question you'd ask is how did I come to be like this? A monster; a killer; a machine; a human being trapped in an inescapable cocoon of pain, despair, and death.

Ok, that last one was a bad analogy. But at least some idea of what I'm talking about.

Perhaps the best way for you to understand everything is if you know the whole story. It's … well…

Enough stalling, here's what happened.

* * *

My dad was the manager of Fredbear's Family Diner. He put so much pride in that restaurant. My brother Michael and I loved it there when we were little, now we were making minimum wage after school and every Sunday. I cleaned toilets and waited on tables while Michael operated the Spring Bonnie suit. However, the only thing Michael did with it was terrorize our little brother. For some reason, he found it funny to see our little brother collapse to the floor and bawl his eyes out. I felt like a babysitter for two little kids in addition to the four-hour shift I was forced to work through every day.

Ever since our mom died, our little brother was terrified of the place. She was killed on the spot by a drunk driver who crashed through the glass doors. Michael and I didn't see it, but Peter was there the whole time. He watched our mother die. He was a few feet ahead of her, so he only suffered minor injuries, but it was an experience that no one should have to witness, much less a four-year-old boy.

The driver was said to be wearing a purple jumpsuit and a Fredbear mask. The driver was caught a few days later, but that tragic event haunted Peter for years. As a result, he became terrified of the employees because they all wore matching purple jumpsuits. He also wouldn't dare to go within a thirty-foot radius of Fredbear or Spring Bonnie.

* * *

Our dad has always been strangely secretive about the restaurant. Even though Michael and I had been working there for five years now. He sent Michael to some place I don't know about, and for the one day he's been gone, it's been glorious. Peter is more relaxed and not constantly hiding under the tables, and work has been less stressful for me. Michael's friends picked on Peter a little bit for being scared of the robots in suit and animatronic mode. But thankfully, it wasn't nearly as bad as what Michael would do or say to him.

I bought Peter a Fredbear plush after work, figuring it would help him be less afraid of the mascots. To my surprise, he adored the toy. He asked me to get him the plushies for the mascots from the other restaurants in Fazbear Entertainment. $40 later, he had the whole collection, Freddy Fazbear, Bonnie the Blue Bunny, Chica the Chicken, and his second favorite after Fredbear, Foxy the Pirate Fox. He told me he didn't want Plush Spring Bonnie. He was scared of getting his finger stuck in it. I'll admit, it was kind of funny seeing a tiny seven-year-old cram five stuffed animals in his little arms.

* * *

Michael hasn't been to the restaurant during the day. Dad told me he was sleeping all day because he took the night shift at this other job he had. I prayed to myself that hopefully Michael would be less of an asshole after the week he was assigned to this job. Dad promised that if his behavior didn't change, he would send him back to work there for another week, and would continue doing that until his attitude dropped.

When Peter heard this news, he seemed relieved. He didn't say anything, but his tiny smile and small glimmer of joy in his brown eyes said it all. All of the Aftons' dark brown eyes seemed to give the same sparkle in reaction to anything we found satisfying.

"Charlie, I have to head back to the diner for an hour. Do you mind getting your brother ready for bed?" he asked me.

"No problem, Dad. He'll be asleep when you get back. I promise," I said. Dad hugged me and kissed Peter on the forehead before departing out the door. I directed Peter towards the bathroom.

The house had a calming silence. Unfortunately, it didn't last long. We passed by the living room and were greeted with a frightening figure that jumped out from behind the TV. The person was wearing all black and a bright red fox mask, modeled after the Foxy character. I was startled, but Peter immediately fell to the floor and started crying with fear. The figure gave a cackle I knew all to well. I felt my face burn with rage and my fists clench, ready to attack someone or something. I carefully brought Peter to his feet and whispered to him, "Peter, go brush your teeth, I'll be there in two minutes." Peter ran towards the bathroom and slammed the door.

I redirected my attention towards the masked figure in front of me. I quickly slid my sneaker off my foot and hit him with it as hard as I could. He only laughed harder, so I did something I knew would annoy him. I flicked the mask off his face with my hand. Unsurprisingly, Michael was the masked figure the whole time. I hit him across the face with my shoe, and he finally ceased laughing.

"What the FUCK, Michael?!" I whispered so Peter couldn't overhear me speaking with foul language. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"I just wanted to have a little fun. What's wrong with that, sis?"

"You're going to give our baby brother nightmares! Are you shitting me? That's 'fun' to you?"

Michael giggled softly. He said nothing in reply.

"You know, I'm surprised Dad let's you close to the Spring Bonnie suit. You're so irresponsible, it's a miracle you haven't gotten hurt in it. You're nineteen! You need to swallow your pride and actually pull your weight at the restaurant. What do I do? I have to look after a child and a baby to make sure that you don't scare the other to death. Not to mention all the work I do at the restaurant! You have no idea how much of a relief today was, since I didn't have to look after a baby!" I firmly poked his chest as I said that final comment to make sure Michael knew I was referring to him when I said 'baby'.

"You need to shut the fuck up, Charlie. If anybody's a baby in this family, it's you!"

"How?" I argued.

"You won't quit whining!"

Out of anger, I took my shoe and threw it at Michael in the common weak spot that all men have. Next thing Michael knew, he was on the living room carpet in the fetal position with his hands between his legs. I walked off to go check on Peter, but wanted to say one more thing before Michael left the house.

"Good luck with work tonight… bitch."


	2. Bedtime for Peter

Peter came out of the bathroom right at the moment I left Michael crying like the little kid he was. Peter was completely clothed in his pajamas with all of the characters from his favorite TV show, 'Fredbear and Friends'. Sometimes, I didn't get what went on in that head of his. Then again, he was only seven at the time, so I wasn't especially surprised. I just disregarded it as his wild imagination getting the better of him, like many other kids his age.

Peter had left his toys on the kitchen table when we came home from the restaurant that day. I scooped them all up and brought them to his room where he was waiting for me. His expression told me he was scared from Michael's sick attempt at 'fun' from a few minutes earlier. When I took a closer look at him under the dim light emanating from the lamp next to his bed, I could see two tears streaming down both of his cheeks. He was completely silent, and seemed entranced at something on the other side of the room. I looked in the same direction he did and took notice of a limp Spring Bonnie plush that seemed to stare directly back at Peter. I carefully approached him with the stuffed animals.

My muffled footsteps snapped Peter back to reality. He whipped his head in my direction. His eyes were red and puffy, and the amount of tears on his cheeks were increasing rapidly.

"Hey, everything's OK, Peter," I coaxed. "Michael's gonna go to work in a few hours, and it'll be just you, me and Dad at the diner tomorrow." Peter gulped and nodded in reply, his face trying to flash a small smile. "You have all your new friends to protect you tonight." I sat of the corner of his bed and handed him the stuffed animals one by one.

"Fredbear, Bonnie, Chica, Freddy, and-"

"No!" squealed Peter when I held up the 10-inch tall Foxy plush. "Not him!" Peter's tears continued flowing. I glanced at the fury, red toy in my hand. It was remarkably cute for being modeled after a six-foot-tall robot. His one golden eye definitely stood out next to his black eye patch. His short stubs for arms and legs only added to the overall 'cute' effect of the toy. All of the toys had a similar design, but Foxy was always the most popular among the younger demographic. But after the stunt Michael pulled, it was evident that Peter wanted nothing to do with anything that was Foxy-related.

"Ok," I said. "I'll… put Foxy in the closet for now. How does that sound?"

"What about Bonnie?" asked Peter, pointing to the foot of his bed. I glanced at the Spring Bonnie doll that sat limply against the folding closet doors. I took a deep sigh.

"I'll take care of him, don't worry. You won't see him after tonight," I promised. "Do you want me to read you a story before you go to sleep?"

"No thank you," Peter yawned. "Good night, Charlie." He turned off the spotted black and beige lamp that sat next to him.

I felt my way towards the closet doors and opened them before tossing the Foxy plush inside. It hit the floor without making a sound. I grabbed the Spring Bonnie doll by the arm and made my way out of Peter's bedroom into the right corridor. I was too lazy to really do anything with Bonnie, so all I did for the time being was place him on the old wooden chair at the end of the hallway. The chipped white paint was getting increasingly worse every day. The creepy toy refused to co-operate with me. Every time I placed it in a sitting position, it would always fall over on its side or on its face. After some time, I finally managed to keep it upright. Bonnie's head rested on its own shoulder. The jaw hung open, and its dead stare was fixed on my bedroom door, which was right across the hall from Peter's. I wasn't thrilled that the creepy doll would be watching over me as I slept, but I brushed it off as best as I could.

I crawled into my bed but couldn't fall asleep. I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom for what felt like the entire night, but there was no trace of sunrise in my bedroom window. I rolled over to my side to take a quick glance at the digital clock that stood on my nightstand. 11:27. Dad left at about 9:00, so he should have been back much earlier. Coincidentally, it was at this moment I heard the rumbling of the garage door and the muffled conversations of Michael and my dad through my bedroom door as my ear was pressed against it.

"Michael? Michael, wake up," I heard my dad say.

"Huh? Wha-"

"What the hell are you still doing here? It's almost eleven-thirty," he interrupted.

"I was gonna leave in a few minutes, don't worry."

"Where's your uniform?"

"Dunno."

" _Find_ it. Now."

"Don't make me go back down there. I swear to god, those things watch me, it's fucking creepy."

"Hey! Language! ... ugh, you're already late for work."

"And you're over an hour late getting home. Who's the irresponsible one now?"

"What the-? Goddammit Michael! Keep this crap up and you'll work there for an entire month on top of this week!"

"Come on dad, please? I don't wanna go! Let me back at the diner!" Michael begged.

"Drop this dumbass act of yours by tomorrow, and I'll consider it!"

The conversation was followed by a slamming door, and a deep sigh from my dad. I heard his muffled footsteps make his way down the hallway towards my room. I wasted no time in bounding back to my bed and under the covers. Dad passed by my room with out stopping so I knew he didn't hear me. He never liked being eavesdropped upon. Just from that conversation, Dad was clearly frustrated enough with Michael and his bullshittery, and I didn't want to upset him even more. A few minutes later, I was too weak to hold my eyelids open, and I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning I woke up to to horrendous beeping of my alarm clock. 7:45 exactly. I slowly sat up on my mattress and walked across the hall to Peter's bedroom. I leaned down to gently shake him to wake him up, but what caught my attention was Peter crying... in his sleep. Two thick tear streaks stained his cheeks and more tears were leaking from his eyes, but he seemed to be breathing normally.

"Peter? Peter, come on, wake up! Peter!" my voice grew louder and my gentle shaking gradually became rougher. Peter sat bolt upright in his bed and he gasped for air. His breathing became much more rapid as if he was trying to catch his breath. His expression was one of complete shock and terror, as if he's seen the most frightening thing in existence.

"Peter! Calm down, it's OK," I assured him as he hugged me and buried his face in my shoulder. "Another nightmare?" I asked him. He nodded his head in reply. He continued crying quietly.

"Shhh. Breathe. Deep breaths. Deep breaths." I told him and this seemed to calm him down. I removed his arms from around me and looked at his red and swollen eyes. "Today's going to be a good day," I said to him. "We're going to have cake and ice cream and a lot of fun." A smile seemed to be sneaking its way onto his face. He nodded his head again.

"Happy birthday, Peter. Your present is in the kitchen."


	3. Off to Fredbear's

Peter's eyes immediately lit up at the news of his present waiting for him. He flew off his covers and dashed into the dining room where Dad and a sleepy Michael were waiting for him. They both wore purple and gold striped party hats and in between them on the table was a small, circular chocolate cake (no larger than five inches in diameter) with white vanilla frosting. In green frosting, a message in cursive read 'Happy Birthday, Peter!'. Along the border of the cake were four skinny black candles and four skinny white candles, all of then about four inches in length. Every one of them had a tiny flame dancing about on the wick.

When he least expected it, I playfully slipped an identical party hat onto Peter at an angle, so the paper cone pressed itself at a 45 degree angle on his head. Peter's face scrunched up when he took notice of the abnormal placement of his hat, and he only chuckled in response as he adjusted it. Peter looked towards his cake and candles, his face evident with hunger and happiness.

"Make a wish, Peter," Dad told him. Peter tightly closed his eyes for a few seconds, inhaled deeply, and with all his might, he extinguished the candles. Everyone applauded in response. Even Michael slowly clapped, although his expression was conveying a very different emotion than the lighthearted event that was taking place in front of him.

"Enjoy your breakfast, everyone!" said Dad, gesturing to the baked mass of sugar and carbohydrates in front of all of us.

"Wait, really?!" Peter asked with brighter eyes than before, which I didn't think could be any brighter a few minutes ago.

"Is today your birthday?" Michael asked in a flat tone.

I hurriedly grabbed paper plates that were conveniently sitting on the kitchen counter and placed them in front of everyone's seats on the dining room table. Dad cut the cake into four pieces and plopped one onto each plate. He handed all of us a first, and we dug in.

After 20 minutes of consuming our 'breakfast', Michael and I headed to our rooms to change out of our pajamas and into our work uniforms, while Peter changed into some day clothes. When we were all ready to go, everyone parted out the door to Fredbear's.

* * *

Peter wasn't particularly enthused when we entered the restaurant, and on his birthday, too. Michael immediately went into the back room to put on one of the Spring Bonnie suits. I was about to head over to the kitchen with Peter, but pulled me away before I could take two steps.

"Charlie, Peter, you see that man?" Dad asked us. He was pointing in the direction of a taller man in a finely pressed light yellow long-sleeves shirt and perfectly quaffed light brown hair. He wore an expensive watch on his bony left wrist and crawled a clipboard in his right arm while twirling a black ballpoint pen in between his long and nimble fingers. He was walking away from us to the currently vacant main stage.

"Yea, I see him. Who is he, anyway?" I asked him.

"You'll see," he said. He cupped his mouth with his hands to project his voice across the room.

"Henry!"

The man snapped his head in our direction and his eyes widened slightly behind his thin-rimmed glasses. Now that I heard his name, I recognized the man.

"Henry Schmidt?"

"Mhm. It's been a while, Charlie. Last time I saw you, you were thirteen. Peter was only two years old at the time." His voice was low and shrill.

"I'm eight today!" Peter chirped. Henry smiled at Peter's cuteness and high-pitched voice.

Henry and my dad have been great friends for as long as I can remember. Coincidentally enough, Henry's son is also named Michael, but to avoid confusion, everyone just referred to him as 'Mike' Schmidt.

"I assume you're here for the inspection?" my dad asked.

"Yep," Henry said.

"Actually, do you mind if I let another worker do that with you? I have to give a training course to a new employee," my dad said.

"Uh, sure. I understand, Will." Henry left to continue his inspection.

"What new employee? You never said anything about that," I said. Although, I wasn't surprised Dad kept his mouth shut. His secrecy about the restaurant was always a mystery to me.

"I was talking about you, Charlie. I'm promoting you."

"What?!"

"Meet me in the back room in two minutes. Peter can't go in, it's too dangerous."

Dad left in the same direction Henry went in. I looked down at Peter who looked at me with sad eyes. With Michael back to work at Fredbear's, I didn't want to imagine what schemes he was planning while working at night. Not knowing what else to do in the moment, I leaned down and hugged Peter.

"Everything's okay, Peter," I assured him. "Here." I handed him ten dollars. "Go have fun in the arcade." Peter smiled and ran off to a corner of the restaurant labeled 'Game Center'. I walked over to the back room where Michael ran off to when we entered Fredbear's.

I encountered Michael with almost all of the Spring Bonnie suit on with the exception of the head. He looked at me with glassy eyes and an expression that I interpreted as he would rather be anywhere else than here.

"Can you help me out, sis?" Michael coughed while gesturing to the artificial animal head. I obliged and fastened the heavy head onto the torso of the costume. Before Michael could exit the room, I stopped him.

"Can you do me a favor? Don't terrorize Peter in this thing today. You know he hates Spring Bonnie. And your little prank with the doll last night was low."

Michael sneered slightly under the costume. His words were slightly muffled when he spoke. "Whatever you say, Charlie."

I was slightly taken aback at Michael's response. There was no swearing, no cackling, nothing. It wasn't like him at all. Sure, there was a hint of sarcasm in his comment, but nonetheless, I was unsure how to react.

He exited the room just as Dad entered it. He had a wrench in one hand and a tape recorder in the other. He practically thrust the wrench and recorder in my hand and gently placed a deactivated Fredbear in a laying-down position on the floor.

"Dad..." I started but was cut off by loud clicking coming out of the Fredbear costume as the exoskeleton was being removed piece by piece, exposing the hundreds of springlocks littered all over the animatronic body. Even the head had at least thirty or forty of them. It really was horrifying to look at, the robot seemed to to stare at the ceiling with lifeless eyes.

I gently placed the tape recorder on the floor and walked over to the monstrosity in front of me. I knelt down and just stared at it, not entirely sure what to do.

"You're gonna put it in suit mode. All you have to do is wind them up," Dad told me.

By 'them', I assumed that he was referring to the springlocks, so that's exactly what I did. I kept rotating them to the right until the braking mechanism in them prevented me from winding them up any more.

"Well done, Charlie. Now just keep doing that for the rest of 'em."

The task seemed easy enough so I gradually sped up. Within about 30 minutes, I had the entire head, both arms, and one-third of the torso completed.

But there was one that was slightly malfunctioning, and was now difficult to wind than the rest. I could barely wind it any tighter, so I forced it with all of the strength I had in me. Bad idea.

I succeeded in fastening that one pesky springlock, but it only caused the rest to come undone as a result. The sound of metal crashing against metal was deafening, and the momentum alone caused the machine to jolt violently. My shock quickly turned into anger. I had to start all over again... and then go the same thing to five more suits after this one.

Dad quickly caught on to my frustration. He told me to come back in ten minutes to try again. I gladly accepted his offer and left the room. I glanced around the dining area and took a seat at a vacant table. Michael decided to join me and rested while in costume. He attempted to take off the head, but the thick fingers of the costume made it impossible. Eventually I was forced to help him.

"Thanks," he said nonchalantly. We sat in silence for a few moments before Michael broke it.

"So what are you giving Peter for his birthday?"

I snapped myself out of my daze and processed his question. "Oh, uh, I was thinking one of the new Marionette puppet things at the prize corner. What about you?"

Michael attempted to shrug but the suit weighed him down. Probably another Foxy plush."

"What's wrong with the one I got him yesterday?"

"That's for me to know and for you to be better off not knowing."

"What the hell did you do?!"

"I took the head off."

"What?!"

"Yep."

"But... why?!..." I rubbed the bridge of my nose in an attempt to prevent my temper from exploding. "I don't have time for any of your bullshit right now." I stood up and began walking towards the back room again when a sudden realization dawned on me.

"Wait, where's Peter?" I asked. Michael tried to keep a straight face, but a smile slowly crept onto it.

 _Son of a bitch!_ I thought to myself. I frantically walked around the restaurant in search of my little brother, but to no avail. I could have sworn I heard a faint thumping and screaming coming from the back of the restaurant, and I instantly recognized the screams. I placed my hand on the knob, but it refused to turn.

 _Michael, what did you do?_

* * *

 **Authors' Note: I know this story is a little slow, and I'm sorry. There's only two more chapters left, and both will be brief. I underestimated the length of the story, and again, I apologize. Nonetheless, thank you all so much for reading, following, and leaving your reviews! It really helps with motivation for writing this story!**

 **-Joeneauxvieve**


	4. Peter and Michael

The door was finally unlocked, revealing a red, puffy-eyed, crying Peter. As soon as the door swung open, Peter leaped out and and threw his arms around me as if he was running away from his worst nightmare. I glanced at the naked Fredbear endoskeleton behind him.

"Peter, are you okay?!" I asked. Peter nodded his head into my tear-soaked shoulder.

"Who put you in there?" I asked the question, even though I already had a pretty good guess who it was.

"M-Michael," Peter stuttered. The tears running down his cheeks were increasing by the second. Dad took Peter's hand and hugged him tightly as well. Looking back into the main area of the restaurant, I noticed that a crowd of people had gathered around the doorway. Above all of the curious heads, two golden habit ears dashed behind everyone. There was only one Spring Bonnie suit in suit mode and one in animatronic mode on the main stage right now. I pushed my way through the crowd and managed to catch up to him. I honestly could not have tackled him in a worse location at a worse time.

"Michael! What the fu-"

Within the few seconds I spoke, Michael managed to grab a stray microphone and threw it at me. I held up my arms in defense, and Michael took the opportunity to disappear into the crowd that was still around the door. I could see my dad trying to disperse the crowd and Peter managed to escape it and ran towards me, not wanting to let go. I knelt down to his level to hug him back. I took the microphone from off the floor and held it up to my lips. "Can I have your attention, everyone?" There was a faint amount of feedback leaking through the speakers. "Please step away from the back of the restaurant, that area is off limits to any and all customers. Thank you."

Michael came back as the large group of people slowly left the crowd and back to whatever business they had before. Michael snatched the microphone out of my hand and spoke through the Spring Bonnie head. The song that the robots were singing had just ended. They were still moving, but no sound was made.

"Excuse me, everyone, I have an announcement to make." The entire restaurant fell silent. I glared at Michael with annoyance and precaution while Peter refused to look him in the eye. "Today, is a very special day for this little guy up here with me," he gestured towards Peter. "Today is his eighth birthday!" A small applause was coming from the audience.

"What the hell are you doing? We never do this when we host a birthday party!" I whispered to my older brother, but he disregarded my comment.

"And I think he'd like to give Fredbear a big kiss!" There was faint gasping from the audience, and I finally stood to meet Michael's face.

"Michael, stop this! You're being r-"

Michael punched me in the cheek and I fell on top of my arm, in addition to my forehead banging against the cold tile floor net to the main stage. The impact of my head to the floor somehow caused an injury to my neck, and I could barely feel anything in my limbs beyond tingling and twitching. In he insight, I thought my nose was broken, too.

"Come here!" was all I could hear Michael say followed by Peter's cries for help and strains of trying to free himself, but to no avail.

 _No!_ I thought to myself. _I am not powerless! Get up, Charlie! GET UP!_

Somehow I managed to roll onto my back to at least see what was happening, but I instantly wished that I would have remained motionless. It may not have stopped what happened next, but it would spare me the burden of the memory.

"No! NO! Please! Don't do this! I don't wanna!" Peter screamed at the top of his little lungs as Michael hoisted him up to the opening of Fredbear's agape jaw. Michael was seized by security, but not before he crammed our little brother's head inside the small opening.

Peter's tears were flowing incredibly fast. He attempted to pry himself out of the mascot head, but his skinny arms were no match for the heavy duty wiring and springlocks that held him in place.

 _Springlocks!_

"Someone shut them down! Now!" my dad and I said almost simultaneously. Dad ran as fast as he could to the robotic controls on the other side of the room, but he was too late.

Following a loud scream, there was a deafening crushing sound that came from the stage. Peter's body dropped to the floor. Limp. Bloody. Lifeless.

Someone had finally helped me sit up and let the blood flow out of my nose, but I wish that they didn't. Peter's face was covered in blood, and the top half of his black and gray t-shirt was, too. I looked at the robot that just took his life. It too had bloodstains on it. Its lower mouth, upper chest and the entire length of the arms sported crimson stains. Even the microphone held some tiny splatter marks. The previously open jaw was now closed.

I didn't want to look at the corpse that was my younger brother, but I also couldn't pry my eyes off of it. Blood was still spurting out of the cavity that used to house his frontal lobe. the pool under his head was growing larger and larger by the second. At least ten employees had to hold back the crowd while dad and five others were either restraining Michael, helping me, or trying to figure out what to do with the body. I couldn't bear to look at my brother. His light brown hair was now die almost completely red with his own blood. I slowly regained feeling in my body and was able to stand up. I was feeling extremely light headed, but that feeling was slowly slipping away, too.

Somehow, Michael broke out of the grasp of the two men that held him still. When he did, he ran as far away from them as he could. He continued running all around the restaurant, and I found a place closely where I could cut him off. I stationed myself next to a random door in the eastern wall of the diner, ready for his impact, but to my surprise, he instead ran into the supply closet behind the door. I quickly followed suit, and the door was shut before anyone else could get inside.

I could feel the tears I was holding back finally leak through. "Why?! Why did you do that?! And why Peter?! He did nothing to you!" I could hear his quiet chuckle from under the costume.

"For Christ's sake, Michael, at least have the balls to do that to my face!" I screamed at him.

Michael removed one of the golden hand from over his own and proceeded to remove the head. He took one step in my direction. I grabbed a wooden broom handle propped up against the wall and held it as if I was ready to swing it.

"Don't you DARE get any closer to me!" I threatened, tightening my grip on the handle. Michael slowly reached up and pulled at a strand of yarn dangling from a single lightbulb attached to the low ceiling.

"Do you see it now?" said a voice I didn't recognize, but still came from Michael. The voice was low, distorted and mechanical. It was... inhuman.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I screamed again. Michael lunged at me with almost full force. The broom handle was barely enough of a defense, even when I held one end in each hand. It began to splinter in the center, slowly splitting under Michael's newfound strength and weight. I looked Michael dead in the eyes. Something was off. They weren't brown like every blood-related Afton that I knew of. They were a lilac purple. They were glassy and lifeless, almost identical to the endoskeleton I was repairing earlier.

"What the hell happened to you, down there?" I asked my brother in an almost whisper.

I was straining against Michael's weight, or rather, this THING'S weight. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't my brother.

"You don't know what we've been through."

* * *

I used my foot to kick him away just enough for me to move to another spot in the room. I narrowly dodged his next attack, but I swung the broom handle at his face. His head moved to the side from the impact, but Michael didn't flinch, nor did it leave a mark. On my next swing, I aimed for his upper arm. Michael let out an agonizing scream as the springlocks closed in on his flesh. It started with his upper arm, then the rest of them slowly collapsed in a chain reaction, leaving everything crushed except for the head. Michael crashed to the floor in a sitting position, barely breathing. His speech was quickly replaced with gurgling as blood spat out of his mouth.

"... Char... lie..." he pleaded. "Help... me..." I slowly walked over to the spring bonnie head that laid on the floor just a few inches away from Michael's dying body. I placed the spring bonnie head over his and fastened it down. Michael's eyes widened in horror as I fastened it to his suit.

 _This is for Peter._

I knocked the broom handle on the side of the mascot head, and the springlocks faltered. Michael twitched and wheezed for quite some time before becoming just as lifeless as Peter was in the next room. The red pool continued to grow under him, and the gore of the sight in front of me increased as more blood dripped down from underneath the costume. My knees gave out from under me and I cradled my head in my hands.

 _What have I done?_


	5. Charlie's Turn (End)

**A.N. Welp! We made, guys! The final chapter! For everyone who have stuck with the story until the very end, thank you so much for the support! We're very sorry for the incredibly long wait, but the rest of the summer for us was jam packed, and school hasn't exactly been merciful, either. So, without further adieu, chapter 5...**

* * *

The rest of the summer and the following two years were very bleak. Peter and Michael's funeral took place on August 31, exactly thirty days after the incident. Thank god there were no security cameras in that back room, or else I would most likely be buried under the ground by my own dad (figuratively of course) if he found out what really happened that day. He didn't know that I was responsible for Michael's death, but honestly, it was probably for the best that this piece of knowledge remained a secret from him.

Fall was around the corner and so was school the school year. My freshman year of college to be exact. Believe it or not, I was actually looking forward to all of the classes and projects and homework. It was something to take my mind off of... August first, nineteen eighty-seven.

Henry called for an immediate shut down of the restaurant, and my dad agreed. Fredbear's was sold back into Fazbear Entertainment after a mass clean out and sanitation. I don't know what happened to the Fredbear and Golden Bonnie animatronics directly involved with the event, but my guess is that they were incinerated because of the blood that tainted their golden exoskeletons. After two years, the old restaurant was torn down and rebuilt, but to my knowledge, the company decided to take a slightly different approach this time.

The name of the new establishment wasn't 'Fredbear's Family Diner' or even 'Freddy Fazbear's Pizza'. It was a name I could have sworn I heard from somewhere, but I couldn't put my finger on it. 'Circus Baby's Pizza World'. Why was the name familiar to me? I couldn't say.

When I asked my dad anything regarding anything involved in Fazbear Entertainment, he did everything he could to dodge the subject. I really couldn't blame him. He lost two children and his wife due to freak accidents in Fredbear's. Well, one child to a freak accident. I didn't want to think about that day or restaurant either, but I couldn't lose my hold on it. I killed my own brother to get revenge for him murdering our baby brother. What did it accomplish? Absolutely nothing. All it did was make life more and more miserable for the two last Aftons alive. Especially Dad.

I lay awake in my bed every night just staring at the ceiling. That horrific moment replaying in my head like a broken record. I was twenty-one and starting my final year of college. The animatronics had always fascinated me as a child and robotics was my passion ever since I was thirteen, but now the dream would only be a reminder as painful as a knife being driven into my chest. My father was one of the designers for the animatronics and plush toys, too. Not long after the funeral, he showed me a secret project he was working on. He was designing new animatronic mascots for Fazbear Entertainment. They were oddly clown-like and all had a cosmetic upgrade. The one that really caught my eye was a feminine-looking one with red pigtails. She adorned a red tutu and crop top with an orange rimmed fan where her belly button should have been. The name for her scribbled at the top in my father's messy handwriting was 'Baby'.

"The company named her 'Circus Baby'," my dad said when he showed me his blueprint ideas.

So that's where I've heard it before.

* * *

I received a letter in the mail the summer before my senior year of college. It was from the company. They recognized my skills in the robotics program and invited me to help them work in the 'Funtime Circus Division', whatever that meant. After more research and tons of questions later, I learned the the division was involved with the robots my dad designed and the new restaurant inlace of Fredbear's. Yeah, ... that makes sense.

Thankfully, they also recognized the work that came with being a senior at a prestigious university, so my task was fairly simple. If I could develop the circuitry and basic programming of moving the elbow, knee and neck joints in, they would pass it on to more experienced engineers who would work off of what I did. I was promised a position in that place after I graduated.

My dad claimed he was done with Fazbear after we lost Michael and Peter, but his contract stated otherwise. I was invited to take a tour of the company headquarters in early June of 1991, and I brought Dad's designs with me to give to the CEO. He seemed very pleased with it, and said we would receive the first two plushes that were manufactured. Just to my luck, one week before I went back to school, a package arrived on my dad's doorstep, along with a handwritten letter from the CEO.

 **Dear Charlie and William,**

 **I would like to invite you, Charlie, back to the company  
** **headquarters for you to work alongside the other  
** **engineers** **in the Funtime Circus Division in two days' time. It is  
** **only a** **six h** **our shift every day for five days.  
** **You will be paid minimum wage for your services.**

 **Once you have completed school, I am willing to offer you a job  
** **in Fazbear Entertainment if you wish. I sincerely hope you  
consider taking ****it, we could heavily benefit from someone of your skill  
level. Please consider the offer.**

 **William, you are** **welcome to accompany Charlie  
if she decides to come to the headquarters.**

 **My Regards,  
** **S. Cawthon. CEO**

I decided to go that day. Dad decided to stay at home and look for an alternative job opportunity in the newspaper. I drove to the monstrous building and made my way to the section of the building reserved for the division I was assigned to. There were metals rooms with large glass windows that contained several people building metal bodies. The desks next to the window littered with scribbled-down math equations, blueprints and strewn pencils and pens, along with my dad's drawings with the final design. There was an empty room with a drawing of another robot taped to the corner of the window. It was all white with a scarlet chest and white legs and body. The face had a clown nose and they wore a small green and yellow birthday party hat. One large button was on its equivalent of a collar bone.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Circus Ennard? Oh, his design was cancelled. We thought five robots would be too much for a small restaurant, so he was scrapped."

"But why cancel him? Why not any of the others? I'm not hating on the other characters, I'm just curious!" I said slightly louder than intended out of nervousness.

The worker caught on and giggled lightly. "No need to be so worked up, it's just your first day. I know what you meant," they said lightheartedly. "But to answer your question, he was cancelled because he had the fewest amount of progress, it was just easier."

"Oh, I see."

The Ballora, Funtime Foxy, and Funtime Freddy robots were still under construction, but Baby was complete. While being explained the mechanics of the animatronic, I kind of zoned out. I had a sense of pride in my chest. _I made that_ I kept thinking to myself. Even though I only did a small fraction of it, I couldn't help it nonetheless.

The worker who was showing me around took me into the room where circus Baby lived. They showed me Baby's various abilities pressed a button in the back of her head, and all of the faceplates that hid her endoskeleton snapped open instantly with a faint hissing sound. I jumped at the sight and sound, her blue eyes opening instantaneously as well.

The worker snickered at my reaction, and I couldn't help but chuckle myself. "She won't do that on stage, will she?" I asked.

"No, no of course not. She only does this for maintenance purposes."

"Makes sense."

"Want to take a crack at it?" someone behind me asked. They walked in my direction with a wrench in one hand and a clamp in the other.

"Uh,... sure. What do I do?"

The man wedged the clamp under a metal plate in her upper left arm. With the wrench, he sprung it open with a similar hissing sound to the faceplates when they opened. A small button was hidden among the silver tubes that made up the end skeleton. When the button was pressed, a small keypad lunged outward from her left faceplate.

"The keypad recalibrates any programming issues Baby may have," he explained.

"Like what?" I asked. "How many things _can_ she do?"

"Ah, well-" he was cutoff by a loud ringing signifying the end of the day.

"We gotta clear out, but we'll talk tomorrow." He left the room along with everybody else. "You coming?" he asked me.

"Yeah, I just need to grab my stuff, I left it in the other room."

I grabbed my purse which I left in the room behind the glass. All the lights turned off with the exception of dim auxiliary lights, so I could still see where I was going. I was just about to shut the door to allow access into the room behind the glass when I heard the humming of power turning on and the steaks of metal against metal. Baby's eyes were illuminated and she moved her arms and neck back and forth stiffly, while her legs and torso stayed still. When her eyes landed on me, she stopped. I couldn't break my gaze from her for some reason. It made no sense to me. How did she do this on her own?

I quickly noticed the keypad still exposed on the side of her head. one of the papers on the table gave all of the codes and what they did. I closest I could find was one labeled 'power: 6479002'. I figured it was worth a shot and I punched the code in, but it had no effect.

 _What the fu-_

"Hello there. Would you like some ice cream?" a female voice spoke, cutting off my thought. I didn't recognize it, and I was the only living person in the room. It had to have come from Baby. The fan on her stomach caved in and a silver claw that held a sugar cone of soft-serve ice cream took its place. It extended towards me.

"Um... no thank you." I said, slowly backing away from Baby, re-adjusting my purse strap on my shoulder.

"I insist."

I said nothing and continued backing up slowly, her eyes still fixated on me. My heart raced from fear.

"Your loss."

Baby's eyes seemed to disappear. They were replaced with two large gaping holes. She took two steps to face towards me. I began to run away. The claw let go of the ice cream and dug into my thigh until it drew blood. I screamed from the pain, my hands trying to pry it out of me. I was being pulled to the possessed machine. I glanced upwards and realized her chest was completely open, and nothing was inside the cavity. When I was close enough, she grabbed my body and forced me inside the cavity. Before I could even catch my breath from the screaming, the chest closed. I was trapped, and within minutes, I remember closing my eyes and being unable to breathe.

* * *

I thought I was dead. No, I _knew_ I was dead. _Why was I seeing sparks? Why am I in pain? Is this Hell? Where am I?_

"You're underground," an all too cheery voice said. "I'm trapped, too, Baby _."_

 _What?_ I thought _I'm not 'Baby'._

"Yes you are. And I'm Freddy. Funtime Freddy."

I froze. I didn't know what to do. I thought over his words and I remembered everything that happened. _Oh no._

 _Where are we?_

"Circus Baby Rentals. We're underground," they repeated. "Your name's on the place, you know."

 _I have so many questions right now, I just-_

"The sparks and pain were the shocks trying to control us. It's not Hell by definition, but it's pretty damn close."

 _What the-_

"I was just answering your questions."

 _What about Ballora and Foxy? Can they hear us?_

"No. But it's only a matter of time."

I was still trying to wrap my head around everything that happened before I died. Little details popped into my head one at a time. _What happened to the restaurant? The Pizza World?_

"Gas leaks caused the place to get closed down. The second location is where I became Freddy."

 _What? There was a first location?_

"Yep. But some of the pieces of the original animatronics there went missing one day and one of the workers disappeared the next day. They closed down the restaurant and redesigned the robots for the new location. Those survived the gas leaks, so we were relocated again and stayed here ever since."

 _The worker disappeared, you say?_

"Yep."

I knew exactly what he was talking about now. Michael, if I knew... so does that mean Peter is...

 _How long have we been down here?_

"Hell if I know. I stopped counting a long time ago. I don't even know if it's day or night at this point."

I didn't respond. This was a lot for me to process...

"You've been in here longer than I have, but you never woke up."

 _How old were you when you became... um... trapped?_

"Eighteen. You?"

 _Twenty-one._

Before I could ask more questions, a bright light shined in my face. I could see my face in the warped reflection in the end of the flashlight when it was turned off. I really was Baby, but my eyes were green, instead. _My eyes._

I could kind of see the person holding the flashlight. They seemed to be a maintenance worker. But it wasn't just anyone. They were crying. I recognized them. It was... my father?

 _Dad?_

I received the last response I thought I would ever hear from him. He told me in a whisper,

"Charlie, I know you're in there. I don't know if you can hear me, but I promise you, I will put you back together."

* * *

 **A.N. We are so sorry for the super long chapter. We admit it wasn't our best work. We realized the story wrote itself into a corner and I was trying to come to a good end. I understand the entire story, especially the ending may be confusing for you all, so here it is in short.**

 **Michael was working at the first Pizza World restaurant while Charlie was working at Fredbear's. The animatronics used him to escape the restaurant on the night he was working during chapter two. In chapter three and four, his behavior was changed because of the animatronic pieces in his body taking over his brain. This is why his voice also changed in the scene in the back room where Charlie 'killed' him ;). The animatronics were programmed to kill people the whole time, hence the deaths of Michael, Charlie and the inhabitant of Funtime Freddy. The person became trapped in Funtime Freddy in the restaurant under construction in this chapter (before the gas leaks occurred). They vaguely know about the situation with the animatronics at the first restaurant because they worked there previously before transferring to the second Pizza World restaurant.**

 **Phew! We hope that cleared everything up, and again, We're sorry for the confusion and lack of quality in this chapter. Nonetheless, this story was still SO much fun to write and we're so glad for all of the positivity it has received while in progress! That's a wrap to The Afton Family Demise! Thank you for reading whether you joined at the publishing of this chapter or if you've been here since the beginning!**

 **And with that, the story is concluded and our post-script ends. Enjoy the rest of 2017, everyone!**


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